Larksong Grotto fè dram

mireille's breath ran ragged in her throat. there had been a touch of trepidation in her, that val would not come. or that if he did, that he would not understand. that he would not accept.
in mutuality they twined together, she turning with small sounds beneath his touch, her gravid body given over to want and she as well.
without the plunging drive of her season, mireille was free to choose, and she chose val again, not waiting before she pressed her hips serpentine between his forelegs and urged him with a low growl.
she thought of nothing else.